And We All Fall Down
by PrehistoricPlague
Summary: What if the lives of the Keroro Platoon and their friends took on a very violent and tragic turn, as invading aliens pirating planets threaten to destroy all of Pekopon? People would change, friendships would suffer, and lives would be lost. Is there hope? Or will a Sergeant save the planet only to destroy it again in a twisted change of mind WARNING: Violence/Gore/Character Death
1. I: Rebellion

**AN: This story is rated M for blood, violence, gore, character death and other disturbing scenes. Please use discretion when reading. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Keroro Gunso, it's characters or it's story line, I merely am writing as a fan of the series.**

**Cover picture will change with each chapter update. Please enjoy.**

**:::**

The whole thing progressed quickly, far too quickly. In it's entirety, the chaos lasted for a day and suddenly their whole world was turned upside down. And Keroro was left wondering how this could have possibly happened as he and, he assumed, his platoon were driven to an unknown location.

He didn't know where he was, but he at least knew he was in some sort of vehicle. His surroundings were completely dark, but he could feel the unmistakable shifting and bumping of movement, and the rumble of an engine. His bones ached with every jolt, and it took him a bit to realize he was lying down as well.

Coughing, he tried to move but found that his wrists were bound behind him, he wiggled his way to a sitting position to lean himself against the wall of his confines. Breathing heavily as panic set in, he tried to assess where he was. Where were his platoon mates, were they here with him? He couldn't hear anyone, let alone see. It took him a moment to realize how small his prison was, but it became clear when he knocked his head on the top of it. Was he in a box? Whatever it was, he was freezing, and it had to be made of metal judging by the unmistakable clang of his bonds bumping against it.

He sighed, and realized he wasn't going to get answers right now, so he waited.

The ride seemed to last forever, though it was probably only twenty minutes before the vehicle reached it's destination. Keroro grunted a bit as his head smacked the top of the box again from the sudden stop and then he was blinded momentarily by light before he felt himself tumbling through the air and hitting the ground. He yelped as he landed, tumbling on rough dirt and rock and skinning his knees as he desperately tried to catch himself in the fall, though it failed.

He blinked a bit as his eyes adjusted to the light, fuzzy images entered his vision, and he saw members of his platoon being dragged away unconscious out of his sight. He weakly protested when a pair of hands grabbed him to drag him away as well.

"No! Leave him alone!" The hands were knocked from his arms and he sunk back to his knees, but with some relief. That voice, he knew that voice.

"Gunsou?" A figure knelt beside him, concern in their voice.

"F-fuyuki?" He asked, looking up, seeing the face of his friend.

The enemy went to grab him too, and suddenly a spark of adrenaline hit him, seeing his friend alive and conscious. He was able to push off the ground, arms slipping under his legs, he pounced on the unknown alien, cuffed arms around his neck as he proceeded to threaten to strangle.

The aliens companion turned around to shoot him, but Keroro had moved quick enough that the one he had attacked was shot instead. He let the other fall to the ground before he went after the other, who's gun had jammed and kicked it into his face. It misfired at that time, and the other enemy slumped to the ground.

Keroro turned to Fuyuki and ran to him, he'd never been so happy to see the Pekoponian and Fuyuki, who'd removed his own cuffs with the fallen alien's keys, hugged him tightly.

"What's happening, gunsou? This wasn't you right?" He asked through tears.

"No, no this isn't me-or my platoon, Fuyuki...they must have known that we were here though..." The frog replied, he was just as lost and confused.

Fuyuki helped him remove his cuffs and they ran down the hall opposite of the yells they heard, no doubt more of the invading race that had heard the gun shots and were now pursuing them.

"Where are the others? We have to save them." Keroro insisted, looking around at the unfamiliar surroundings. He didn't even know where to start, or how to help them. And he'd been stupid, leaving the guns behind on the bodies.

Fuyuki hadn't though, and he had one with him now. And for awhile, it looked as if they might succeed escaping, however they were quickly overwhelmed. Keroro was bewildered, how had they invaded with such a large number so quickly?

How was this all possible?

"Well, as admirable as your efforts to resist were, it was a sorely bad idea." Keroro blinked a bit, looking up at the captain of this particular squad. They had been brought to him to have their fates decided. Keroro had tuned out most of what he said, but was focusing a little more. He didn't recognize this race, who were they? There were treaties accross alien races, invading was left to a single race usually...so they must be a rogue kind.

"However," He continued, "You can rest easy in knowing you'll have a swift execution, you'll be the example to this planet of what happens to those who resist, so take comfort in knowing you'll die nobally. You're friends wont be so lucky-"

He cut off at the sound of a terrible scream, Fuyuki looked toward the door immediately,  
"Natsumi!" He felt a sob in his throat.

"Your companions will be tortured for information and intelligence on this planet. They are also examples, we don't want any resistance, and we do not handle it well...in fact, we have brought your brightest mind to give us aid in-ah, here he is."

Keroro looked as they dragged in a defeated looking and familiar yellow Keronian, "He's agreed to talk to you." one of the soldiers stated as they dropped him to the ground.

"...Kululu..." Keroro watched his fellow soldier as he tiredly pushed himself to stand.

"So you're called Kululu, well, Kululu, what do you have to say to me." The captain demanded.

The yellow keronian was silent for several long moments, but his shoulders started shaking lightly, and a sound came from him so unmistakable that Keroro felt his spirits lift, he wasn't down yet.

"kukukuku...kuku...kukukukuku"

The captain raised a brow, "What is this? Some kind of joke."

Kululu looked up at him, "Yes, and the jokes on you." He said, pulling out the Kero-ball, which he'd somehow kept hidden, nobody asked how Kululu did things, he just did.

He pressed a button, alarms went off around the building, and before the others could tackle him he tossed it to Keroro, it's abilities allowing their bonds to be cut loose. Keroro caught it looking to him with shock on his face.

"Run now-ta-" And he was knocked out.

Keroro didn't waste another second, grabbing Fuyuki in the chaos, he used the Kero-ball to open a dimensional portal and they escaped to somewhere just outside.

Then, the building exploded.


	2. II: Work To Do

"They're gone, all of them, my friends-every last one of them-"

"Gunsou-"

Keroro sat on the ground, defeated and suffering. The Keroro ball lie forgotten at his side as he stared down at the blaze that was once a prison for him, his platoon, and who knows how many others. Thanks to Kululu, he and Fuyuki were now safe atop a hill overlooking the ruin, but he didn't feel safe, he didn't feel grateful.

He felt cheated, why did Kululu have to be smart, why did he have to have a back-up plan. Why couldn't they all have just died there together and that would be the end. Instead, he lost everyone, including his childhood friends, the ones he cared about most. At the moment, he couldn't register that being alive meant he could fix things, and that he wasn't alive alone.

Fuyuki wanted to say something, he wanted to comfort the Sergeant and help him feel that everything would be alright. But even he didn't feel like there was hope, it was just the two of them now, what were they going to do, what could he do. He wasn't like his sister, Natsumi would know how to take action, she was strong and he wasn't.

The emptiness hit then...Natsumi- she was...

And suddenly, he knew how Keroro must feel, he had lost everyone. The whole platoon had been in the house when they were suddenly ambushed and taken away. There was no way they could have survived that explosion, was there?

He remained quiet for a moment, then he remembered, his mother hadn't been home! Maybe there was a chance she was still alive and somewhere safe, or even if she had been kidnapped, they could still save her.

He looked at the Sarge, did he have the heart to break him out of his mourning though?

"Gunsou-?" He said, hesitantly.

Keroro was quiet for several moments longer before looking down at his hands, "I- I couldn't do anything...Giroro was right, he always was, I'm...useless."

And he began to cry.

"Come on soldier, don't give up now."

Laden with the barely alive body of Kululu, Corporal Giroro trudged his way into the cover of the trees, trying to get away from the smoke and the flames. He finally laid his burden down next to the body of Natsumi...no, not Natsumi. It was only a corpse now that had once been filled with the life of the girl he loved.

He knew that it had been foolish to drag the lifeless remains from the burning building, he was a soldier, he knew death. But, he couldn't bear to leave her behind to burn into nothing. And besides, because he had saved her he had seen Kululu struggling to escape and had been able to rescue him.

Or what was left of him.

He tore some of the clothing of the deceased Hinata away to make bandages for the bloody pulps that had once been the Sergeant Major's hands. And then, to wrap around the left side of his head. He thought about removing the glasses, but the fire had singed them into his skin in some places and he worried that removing them would only further the damage. Safe to say, his left eye was going to be useless, with the shattered glass that had become imbedded in it.

Kululu coughed a bit, barely conscious, "Kuku-we match..." He joked weakly, gesturing to his eye.

He was right, Giroro's already scarred left eye had completely lost vision at this point when the torturing had landed a blow to that particular eye. It now no longer functioned, and Kululu's would never again either.

"Heh, guess so, but I think you're going to have a worse battle wound than I." He replied, finishing covering the others wounds. Sitting down to finally catch his own breath.

He sat in silence for awhile, the only sounds were the crumbling of the building and Kululu's raspy breathing. After awhile, the keronian spoke.

"So she's dead." He said, looking over at the beaten body of the girl.

Giroro didn't look over, "...yes, she was the first tortured...because she fought so defiantly, they didn't let her go easily-"

He recalled seeing this happen, how painful it had been to watch, but he couldn't deny that she had been so very brave.

Another long silence passed between the two, before Kululu sat up weakly, grunting with the effort.

"I wouldn't strain yourself-" Giroro started, before Kululu raised a bandaged arm to silence him.

"I was able-to get my invention before the explosion..." He said, nudging over a device he had been clutching in his arms before Giroro dragged him from the rubble. "I want you to have it, use it-on the pekoponian."

Giroro looked down at it confused, he hadn't noticed it before, it was slightly triangular in shape and had a bright green oval in the center.

"Just put it on the back of her head, and she can become a weapon so you can fight back." the yellow keronian leaned back against a tree, "When you activate it, use the headpiece for yourself, you'll be able to control her-it wont revive her, I can't work those kind of miracles."

The corporal stared at the object then at Kululu, "How-how can this work-"

"kuku-You'll just have to see for yourself-" he replied.

Giroro was somber, "You didn't originally make this for me...did you...who was it for."

Kululu looked away, "It doesnt matter, I make things for no reason, it's just something extra I had lying around. Anyway, it'll work better on someone who's not living-" He coughed again, he wasn't going to tell the Corporal he was going to use it on himself, it didn't matter now.

"Thank you- but-"

"But what, you don't want someone else to do our job do you? And if you do nothing, then she, and everyone else, dies in vain."

He had a point, no, not just a point, he was absolutely right. The invading aliens had to be stopped, before Pekopon was completely destroyed.

"You better hurry up and hide, take her too." Kululu said suddenly, sitting up more.

"What? Why-" But he didn't have to ask, he could hear yelling as enemy survivers from the blast were coming near their area, they'd all definitely be killed.

Kululu stood up slowly, peeking out from around the cluster of bushes they were concealed behind.

"What about you?" Giroro asked.

"I'll keep them occupied, but without my arms, I can't give you long so you'd better go now."

Kululu was sacrificing himself...for him? This was all too surreal, but then again, they were in a war-situation. "I can't just leave you."

His headphones popped open, long cords extending from them and going menacingly for the corporal, sparks of electricity flashing at the ends, he looked at him. "You can and you will. Now."

He wanted to protest, but everything was happening so fast, so quickly as he could, he grabbed Natsumi and got her away from there as quickly as he could. Like Kululu said, he didn't get far before the yellow Keronian was overwhelmed, he watched from safety up in the trees a ways away.

He watched with gritted teeth as they yanked the cords out of his headphones. But, instead of killing him, the grabbed him up and took him away. The corporal was able to make out something like "hostage" and "headquarters", but that's all he needed to know.

Once they were long gone, he made his way further into the trees, setting Natsumi up against a rock. He looked at the device for a long time, "...We'll come- and find you." He said to himself, clicking the green button he placed the device on Natsumi.

It quickly took shape, and where her arms and legs had been almost destroyed, new robotic ones were formed. And then there she was, standing before him-but as Kululu said, there was no life in her eyes.

She held out the head piece for him, frozen in place, waiting for her commands. He took it and placed it on his head, along with the ear and mouth piece. She had to be his soldier now, an extension of him. And they'd stop the invaders, save the Sergeant Major-and anyone else that might need their aide.

It's what she would have wanted...

"Natsumi-we have work to do."

"Yes sir."


	3. III: I Forgive You

The youngest of the platoon wandered aimlessly through the rubble. His expression was wild and feral now, as he seemed to have nearly lost touch with reality.

"Gunso...why did they take you from me..." his eyes watered momentarily, tears threatening to spill over. Nothing made sense, it couldn't have been that long ago this all began, and looking at the ruin around him, it felt like it was all over.

But could that really be it? It felt too surreal, it wasn't right, it didn't feel...okay.

He wasn't okay with this.

"Gunso-I'll-I'll get them back for this..." He teared up again, "I will-I'll-"

He stopped short, pupils shrinking suddenly, he felt a shock run up his spine and his whole body stiffened. He sensed a presense, an unfortunate presense of someone that he absolutely did not wish to see.

He turned around slowly, pupils contract to almost nothing at this point.

"You..."

The 'you' he was referrring to was a young girl trapped beneath the rubble. This particular girl was an alien as well, the Lord of Terror, and his forever rival, Angol Mois. Their relationship was strained, though that was mostly on his part as he more than mildly hated her existence.

However, she was oblivious to this, so when she spotted him she was relieved, her fearful eyes becoming awash with hope.

"T-Tama- Tamama...you're alive...please, help me." She begged.

Tamama's form tensed, she was asking him for help, the girl he hated more than anything really thought that he'd show her mercy? From what he could see, it appeared both legs would definitely be broken in the situation she was in, and the rest of her was so beaten and bruised that they'd have to find a doctor before any miracle life-savers could be performed.

He felt himself walking over, in reflex, because of her request. His hands twitched as he stalked, his gait turning more feral and non-friendly as he made his way closer.

"You..." He repeated.

Her face fell with confusion, she was helpless and weak, dying even. She couldn't understand why he looked so upset, had she done something? Was he really mad at her-he definitely looked it.

"Tamama...I- I'm trapped. Please, please help me." She replied, worry beginning to settle.

"It was you-" He said quietly, "It was always, _always_ you, you stupid woman."

Her expression turned even more confused, this annoyed him.

"Tamama-"

"Shut up!" He snapped, "I _hate_ your voice, you stupid, fake girl...always playing so innocent! Your blinding purity doesn't work on me anymore, not when you look so useless!"

He stopped in front of her.

"It's your fault, you selfish witch. You came along and took him from me and now he's gone, it's all your damn fault, how could you do this!"

A cry stuck in her throat as a harsh slap stung her cheek, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. She looked up at him again, expressing utter shock, she looked hurt.

"He was _mine_! Why can't you get it, why couldn't you get it! Damn you-"

"Tama-chan...I didn't-"

Another slap.

"You didn't know? Don't lie to me!"

She sobbed silently, body too broken to do anything, and her spirits utterly defeated as she realized she was going to die here like this.

"Don't cry Mois..."

She blinked through her tears, looking up at him again. His pupils had vanished and were replaced by a faint glow, a similar glow emitting from his mouth as he prepared to do something she knew all too well.

Horrified, she begged, "Tama- no, I'm - I'm sorry!" Panic setting in heavily.

"Of course you are-" his tone had changed dramatically, "Of course you are." He said, patting her cheek, "But you must be punished-"

The venom laced voice only made her tremble and sob.

"Don't cry Mois, I'll avenge our beloved Gunso, and you're going to help me..."

She tried to react, she tried to do something, but her broken body couldn't stop him as he took her Lucifer Spear from her.

"You'll die for him-supporting him till the end, just like you've always dreamed...goodbye Mois-"

The yell of the Tamama Impact was the last thing she heard.

It only took one blow, and the Lord of Terror was no more. He stared at the spot of her disfigured corpse.

"...See, I forgave you." He punched in the numbers on the phone, turning it into the proper spear, her ring and cloak appearing around his shoulders, getting licked from the remains of the burning fire and singed.

He looked across the smoking ruins, expression calm, but insanity had fully taken over.

"I'll obliderate them...every. last. one."


	4. IV: Birth of the Demon Sergeant

[**AN: I apologize for this ridiculously short chapter :I]**

He must have sobbed for a good hour before the tears ran dry. After that, he just trembled silently reflecting on all that had happened.

Fuyuki looked on, worried and slightly nervous. Keroro had grown deathly silent and he wasn't sure he was prepared to handle whatever emotional throw-back this would have on the Sergeant. Nothing that came to his mind seemed like the right thing to say and he was rather frustrated that he couldn't be more useful for the defeated Keronian.

He watched curiously as Keroro stopped shaking all together, before a silent murmuring caught his ear and he listened carefully.

"Where are you...answer me...everyone."

"Gunso?" He asked.

"Where-someone. Greet me..." His voice was barely even above a whisper.

Fuyuki frowned sadly, he'd just have to wait, let him finish mourning.

"...I don't want to be alone..."

"You're not alone...I'll stay with you..."

Keroro looked up at his Pekoponian friend for the first time since they had stopped at the top of the hill, eyes dry and red from crying.

"I didn't tell them how much the meant to me did I? I never was a very good leader...I should have been the one who died, not them."

Fuyuki's heart broke a little, seeing Keroro look like that, it wasn't like him.

"Gunso, it's not your fault, nobody saw this coming-"

"It is my fault!" The Keronian interupted, getting to his feet and looking over the wreckage, "I was lazy and selfish, stupid even...I was never the Sergeant I was meant to be."

He went silent, Fuyuki wasn't sure what to say, then he noticed the Sergeant's shoulders shaking lightly. Was he crying again? He reached out to console him when he heard the reason for his trembles.

"Gero-gero gero gero gero..." The sound was soft but unmistakable, a low laughter that he emitted under his breath.

"G-gunso?" The boy looked nervous, he'd never heard his friend laugh like that.

He wasn't listening anymore, "Of course...that's- that's always been the problem. I've always been me, useless and cowardly-forgetting the very reason I came here over and over again. I wasn't sent here to waste my life away, gero gero gero, I am a proud Keronian invader, I was good enough to get my own platoon! I had no reason to give up-I am good at what I do."

Fuyuki didn't dare speak as the Sergeant, who was sounding more crazed every second, in a cold and refined way, continued.

"I am an invader, I will invade this planet, I will take it back! And _I_ will rule over Pekopon, _I_ will be in control..._I _will be revered! Who are they to think they can take on Sergeant Keroro, do they really think they can kill my friends, take over my job and I will have nothing to say about it, gero gero-gero gero gero." He sniggered more wickedly.

It was terrifying, his best friend was going mad right in front of his eyes. He was starting to sound a little like Dai-Gunso, only more deranged.

"And when I'm done bringing them to their knees...I'll kill them all- and Pekopon will bow before me. Gero gero~ I will make my platoon proud, they will not die for nothing. My desire for war has returned-however." He stopped suddenly, head turning a bit a Fuyuki's direction.

What was wrong with him, he wasn't Gunso suddenly, his eyes-they-

"Fuyuki Hinata..." The sergeant addressed him.

He wast startled at the firm way he'd said his name, "...Y-yes Gunso-"

"From now on, you have the honor of being my personal servant, you will be treated well if you serve me and help me take this planet back. Perhaps in the process we will find your mother, there is no other option, accept my offer and together we can conquer this alien race and become the new rulers of Pekopon, I will bestow you that privilage if you see this mission through to the end."

Shock and pain riddled his spirits, that was it, one small snap and the Gunso he'd come to befriend and love was gone, possibly forever. It hurt his very being! He wanted to reach out, to tell him this was crazy but there was no inkling of patience in the others red eyes, so with a heavy heart he hung his head and nodded.

"I- accept."

The keronian turned back to face the rubble, "From now on, the patience and mercy to those who had gotten in my way is gone. I, like my father before me, am the Demon Sergeant Keroro...the world would be wise to learn that name and fear it."


	5. V: Given Purpose

There is something to be said for the calamities that drive people, and turn them into powerful forces of nature, or leave them behind in the dust. While a single event sends ripples out in every direction, that central point unites them. They could travel across the world, hitting obsticals along the way. At some point they may end up meeting again even if it takes a lifetime to reunite. So there is some solice in the seperation of companions and loved ones, knowing that the universe commands that there will always be ties that cannot be undone.

Things may not be the same the next time, but everything returns to the beginning at some point.

Though Keroro believed his seperation from his friends had been through death, he did believe there would be justice for them, and that would perhaps bind their spirits back to him. He felt alone and empty without their presences, and maybe their souls were angry at him for failing for so many years. Assuming they were dead, he wouldn't blame them, but he thought that they could be watching him still and if he could prove that he was the leader they deserved, they'd stay with him.

He had rumaged through the smoking remains of their prison, finding two trinkets he'd never part with again. Giroro's belt and Tamama's symbol, they had always remained faithful to him, even when he had failed them so many times-he swore to wear their symbols with pride. That he would make their sacrifices mean something.

Despite his just cause, his hardened heart and delusion made his plans less than so, as he'd grown exceptionally cruel spirited in his transformation. Fuyuki noticed this, in fact, he'd fashioned himself with what was left of Natsumi's old power suit she had attempted to fight the invaders with. With the arm braces on he could call on Keronian weapons from thin air, while it would be useful against the invaders, Fuyuki was fearing he'd have to use it on the Sergeant himself.

The Demon Sergeant that is...it wasn't his Gunso anymore.

Something deep inside him wondered if everyone was really dead, it was a hard fact to accept. Though it was true that Natsumi was dead, they hadn't found any familiar corpses in the rubble, at least not small enough to be Keroro's platoon. Of course they hadn't looked very hard, it was a quick sweep over to find anything useful for their fight against the invaders.

The day was nearing it's end and it was high time they found themselves food and shelter to hide themselves from searching eyes, as there most definitely would be.

When they had settled in, Fuyuki remained awake the majority of the night, looking up at the smoke-filled sky. He tried not to fall into despair, but he knew the world had changed permanently, even if they did save it again who knows if it would remain saved. If he'd ever get his best friend back, or if the damage that had been done could ever be rectified.

With a heavy heart, he eventually eased himself into a restless nights sleep.

_He was thrown into a dream, they were standing amongst some sort of rubble, the surroundings were unfamiliar and hostile. He saw Keroro then, standing a few yards away staring up in the sky._

_He called to him running over to him, but the green Keronian was not listening. Then he realized he wasn't alone, two Keronians accompanied him, and another figure._

_Natsumi?_

_But it couldn't be, she was dead. And the other two, who were they, for some reason it was all so fuzzy._

_And then he realized they were looking up to, and he followed there gaze._

_He couldn't make out the figure in the sky, it had a single glowing eye, and it even appeared to have horns on the sides of it's head. Long tendril looking shapes extended everywhere around it, and it's sharp fingers gestured toward them. Was something being said? The remainder of the platoon looked both like they were furious, and suffering from a deep, unspoken sorrow._

_But they readied to attack anyway, the one next to Natsumi first, Keroro rushed to try and stop him. Which one was it? They looked desperate, it's gestures insinuating it was trying to reason with the figure. It didn't do a lot of good as they were forced to avoid an attack._

_Then the other Keronian leapt into attack, Keroro tried to stop them and when he failed, help them. But it was too late, the blinding flash blinded Fuyuki temporarily and then there was nothing._

_Just darkness, endless darkness._

Gasping, he awoke with a start, beads of sweat having formed on his forhead during the confusing and frightening images he had seen. What was that all about? It all seemed so real and foreboding.

Fuyuki had once had dreams that were foretelling of some terrible catastrophe. This couldn't be a premonition could it?

Hopefully not, he thought, looking at the Keronian sitting up in sleep against the tree a few feet away. No matter what he had become, he didn't want to lose Keroro. He had to find a way to pull back his best friend-maybe it would change that horrific sight he had just seen, change the course of things to be better in their favor. In Earth's favor.

He stood up finally brushing the lingering soot off of his clothing, surveying the damage to it as he had not found a moment to do so since the explosion. It wasn't too bad, a few scrapes, though the elbow of his hoodie had almost torn completely across, and his jeans had some holes as well. He'd have to make-do it seemed.

Something caught his eye, near the underbrush. He wandered over to investigate, pulling away at the branches, and he stumbled a bit in shock.

Natsumi-but she couldn't-

No, that wouldn't make sense, but those were definitely shattered pieces of her original power suit. He fell to his knees, gathering the pieces of the suit as if they were parts of Natsumi herself. He picked up a relatively unscathed piece that had once settled around one of her pigtails. Turning it over in his hands thinking of his sister, he caught sight of her blood on it and froze.

That was it, he didn't realize that his emotions had been so restricted the entire time, having been so worried about Keroro. He hadn't had time to even properly mourn the loss of his sister.

That was clear by the onslaught of tears, pouring down his cheeks.

"Nats-natsumi-" He choked out in a struggled sob.

He hung his head trembling for several moments, the realization sinking in.

"Natsumi!" He cried in anguish, voice loud and uncaring of who it could disturb. Quite luckily, there was no one in miles and the Demon Sergeant was fast asleep.

Fuyuki didn't care, he would gladly accept death right now at the hands of a passing enemy. He'd bow his head in defeat and let them slit his throat if they so desired. Then he could be with her again, his only sister.

Though, after a good bit of sobbing, he was disgusted with himself for even thinking that. Why was he always such a child about those things, willing to give up and let his big sister take care of things just because she had always been better at it than him. He backed down, while she stepped up, just because he didn't like confrontation.

And here now, he almost believed it would be alright to curse her memory by letting someone end his life over her sacrificed blood. The blood she shed trying to step up like she always had.

He couldn't disappoint her like that-and she would have been disappointed.

_'Fuyuki.'_

He could hear her, replicating her voice in his head.

_'Fuyuki, you idiot, stop being such a baby.'_

"I can't- Natsumi I can't do it-"

_'You wanted to learn to swim this year didn't you? Fuyuki you keep putting this off every year, you're depressing.'_

"But- Natsu-I'm scared."

_'It's just water Fuyuki! Nothing to be scared of.'_

"I could drown."

_'Fuyuki you idiot, I'm right here, I wont let you drown. Seriously.'_

"...You- you promise."

_'Do you want my help or not.'_

The tears returned, "I do, I need your help desperately."

_'Then why are you still sitting around and crying?'_

He stared at the pieces in front of him, she was right, why was he still sitting around? Even in death she was always helping him.

Sniffing, he viewed the pieces in front of him. There were some that weren't destroyed, he could salvage them. Yes, it could work.

He put together the few items from her arsenal that weren't totally destroyed, it wasn't much but it wasn't nothing either. He attatched a piece to his arm, he remembered her calling up Keronian weapons there, and after a few frustrated yells and a couple of tests he was able to get it working again. He kept the piece to her hair, as it also contained a beam blade that would definitely prove useful. Hands covered with the gloves as well, he left the other pieces behind, they would only slow him down.

Armed and ready, he returned to his "camp" spot with a renewed determination.

She was still with him, and as long as she was with him, she was with their mother too.

And somehow, this brought him some peace.


	6. VI: Last Moments of Self

It hurt to open his eyes, luckily he was accustomed to pain, and the room was dark save for an eerie blue-green glow that shrouded the black figures. What were they? They didn't seem to be whole, as the dark outlines of their bodies shivered in the strange light. And why did he feel like he was floating.

It took him a moment to realize why they looked like they weren't solid, he was in some sort of liquid substance. This was verified as he shifted his head, mouth opening, his breath bubbling up in front of him.

There were voices, but they were so distorted by the thick solution surrounding them that he could not make out what they were saying. He thought to use his headphones to clarify the sound waves coming toward him, but for some reason they would not respond. That's when he noticed the hundreds of cords protruding from them, the actual headphone pieces were missing-and then with some sort of horror he realized that wasn't all that was missing.

He remembered then the incident before he had blacked out. He was with Giroro, and he had told him to get away before he was attacked. Before that, he had been tortured with the others, he lost his eye-no wonder it hurt so much to open them, one was no longer there. And his arms-they had been almost completely burned away in the fire.

It was surreal to see the stumps, with his veins pulled gently through to remain suspended in the viscous solution surrounding him. It was more of a curious sight now that he'd gotten over the initial horror and shock of waking up in such an unexpected situation. However, this wouldn't last long, as he looked down in time to see a buzz saw heading straight for his abdomen. A silent visage of death, making no sound in the liquid surrounding them.

Masochist or not-he wasn't about ready to let that cut him open.

The struggling caught the attention of the blurred figures, they seemed unphased, pressing series of buttons on glowing control panels in front of them. He heard the indistinct plop of something else entering the solution and he looked up to see a large glowing sphere of some sort above him. Long, misshapen streams of it had slithered down into the liquid and seemed to be circling his head for some reason. It almost seemed to have a conscious, it looked more like a giant ameoba now. He jerked away as one of the slippery tendrils brushed against him, it tensed and split like a mouth emitting what probably was a hiss, that bubbled up out of its gooey jaws.

What the hell was going on.

He didn't have long to think about it as there was a searing pain in his abdomenom, and he realized in his distraction, the saw was already doing it's job. It tore through his symbol, then his skin rapidly. He wanted to struggle but was forced to watch in horror as his insides were exposed to him.

This wasn't really happening was it? His ears were ringing at the pain and he tried to gasp, yell, scream if he had to. The failed attempts bubbled up in front of him. This couldn't be the end for him-but maybe it was.

Why hadn't he passed out yet, why wasn't he losing blood rapidly. This substance-was it keeping him alive?

There was a stinging sensation that he only barely noticed under the pain of the saw, and he realized one of the slimy apendages of the ameoba had latched onto his forhead. He could feel it digging into his skull and a sharp shock as it entered his brain.

Then one, and two more followed.

Memories began to fill his mind as the things surrounded his cerebral cavity, but he couldn't seem to keep ahold of them. He could feel them spreading, as if someone had poured water into his skull and it was filling in every crevice. It was like they said, when you died your life would flash before your eyes, but for some reason he couldn't seem to hold onto any memory that was there, as if they weren't even there in the first place...

Then he realized it, this thing was wiping his memory.

He began to struggle feably again, even to a Keronian as devious as himself, this felt violating. He wanted to yell again, maybe he already was. But the ringing in his ears drowned out any other possible noise. And his vision had gone white for a moment, so he couldn't see if he was even breathing.

Then, his vision was back, and out of his remaining eye he watched as drills attatched a metal plate to his face. Why didn't they bother to numb him, they weren't trying to kill him, that much was apparent. Maybe they were as sadistic as him.

He was distracted momentarily as the pain in his head subsided for a moment. The strange brain leachers attatched to his head had calmed some, probably processing the memories they had already stolen from him. What had he forgotten? He'd never know.

Forced again to watch as the more metal was attatched to his body, to peices to his arms that funeled his veins through them. And then, more terrifying sights, as some sort of wriggling slug was inserted into his body. It was cold and it suddenly felt as if it was clinging to every part of him.

As all of this had caused him to go into some sort of delerium, he found himself facinated as the unusual creature closed up the open wound in his chest. Before it looked as if nothing had happened. His usual marking there had grown jagged and the end of the spiral swam up to his neck. It was kind of cool.

More pain, that was all that could snap him out of that, something intruded into the hollow socked of his missing eye. After a few shocks, he could see out of both eyes-more or less, as the robotic eye was clearly made for some sort of combat.

Then it was clear.

They were turning him into a weapon.

A string of Kukuku's left his mouth, though they translated only as more useless bubbles in the substance.

Perhaps he should have felt upset, he'd be turned against his own platoon, but the idea of improving his bad-ass status was so tantilizing, that if he could, he may have been salivating.

A metal hand was attatched to his left arm, fingers long and sharp.

Sometimes, it's hard not to feel the desire to show-up everyone who had ever doubted you. He had always been dislikable, and he always would be, though he never seemed to mind. However, he had tried so hard to get the attention-of that one. While may have gained a few breif moments of red-faced fury and abuse, and though it may have satisfied him temporarily, it was never enough.

If only he-they could see him now.

Still, there was the problem of him not fully being himself, and he didn't like that. So while the prospect of increased abilities was more than delectable, he wouldn't stand for losing control.

So while various machines tried to put him together, he began struggling again. Pain shot through his skull as the ameoba once again sucked at his memories, but he wouldn't give in. He could handle pain, he forced himself to remember that he had always loved pain.

Then there was a face, it flashed by his memory and everything seemed to slow down.

No.

No they couldn't.

He knew deep down, but the reality was shocking.

'I don't want to forget that.'

He struggled painfuly, reaching out literally trying to cling to that one memory, if nothing else, he wanted to remember that face. This caused the ringing in his head to increase, and the biological machine to work harder at fighting him for it.

The pounding increased exponentially with each passing moment.

It's job was made easier suddenly, Kululu blacked out in those last moments of himself.

Elsewhere, a certain Keronian felt a shift in the air. It felt as if someone was trying desperately to reach him, before the presence vanished suddenly.

Giroro stopped, looking off in a direction for a moment uncertain of what he had just felt. It tugged at him, and somehow caused him pain in his heart. It felt like he had missed the critical moment where you were forced to act to save a life before it was too late. Had he imagined it?

"Giroro?"

He was snapped out of his thoughts at the questioning voice of Natsumi-No, not Natsumi.

But it was the best he was going to get, and yet he suddenly felt more alone than ever. As if his last support had vanished without a trace.

The reanimated body of the Pekoponian girl watched him with what was meant to be curiousity, but her eyes were empty and emotionless to the corporal. It was only programming anyway. He'd given up the one living companion he could have had.

He was completely alone.

"Nothing- let's go."


	7. VII: Trauma

The fires burned for days, hungrily devouring building and plant life alike. The number of dead piled higher, and it was impossible to know what was going on in the rest of the world save for a few radio stations which desperately attempted to keep things in update and people who had not been imprisoned filled with hope. The invasion hadn't yet taken on the whole world, it was spreading from Japan out, splaying about like a hand curling it's fingers across the globe to snatch it up into it's grasp.

Military efforts did their best to keep the hostiles out, though it was futile.

Communications one by one went down, networks severed, and those who weren't imprisoned turned from allies to adversaries. Forced to survive in each desolate environment, fending for themselves, fights for survival turned to bloodbaths over scraps of food and meager shelter.

Riots, Violence, Pandemonium-stemming from an unknown fear.

Amongst the dying flames where it all began, away from the chaos in a clearing of ashen rubble- once a wooded area with a modest hut and a stream- lie one completely forgotten.

It took days before the Keronian would awaken, and when he finally did, he found himself alone, broken, and bloodied on the ground, body sloppily bandaged as if the one who did it had little time to fret over what would best suit the wounds at hand.

Hardly conscious, he stayed where he was, staring up at the dark gray sky mildly wondering if there was supposed to be a storm today. He didn't remember the weather forecasting such a thing, and when he had gone to bed, it had been a beautiful clear night. He had slept well, no nightmares or troubles to speak of, but, hadn't he been woken up? Yes, he heard an explosion. From where? He had rushed out of the hut to check, smoke was billowing from the direction of the Nishizawa mansion, and the tower that towered high as a beacon went crashing to the ground. Koyuki had run out to join him and-

Koyuki! He sat bolt upright and let out a shout of pain doubling over, tears building in his eyes. He lie there gasping, ears ringing, as his entire body screamed at him, protesting his movement. It had been dormant for too long, it felt so stiff and he could almost hear it cracking each time he breathed as it tried to process the idea of movement.

He coughed into the mask covering his face from the fumes, that's when he realized it wasn't his mask, it was bright red and smelled familiar. While he let the pain subside his mind was racing, what else, what else had he forgotten?

Right, Koyuki had said something about Natsumi, she was worried about the others. When they went to turn back into the hut, it exploded. Blinding light, the earth trembled around them as explosions lit up the landscape. He had struggled with Koyuki to escape the flames, they crossed a river- then what?

Stinging pain, everywhere, as the bandages moved and broke the clotted blood. He squeezed his eyes shut. Then what? Then what!

They were pursued, flaming branches had fallen on him and his skin was blistering as flecks of the flame burned through his skin. He had collapsed at some point, his mask burned away and the fumes getting to him. Koyuki. She had been struggling to get him to stay with her, but couldn't waste time or they'd be caught.

Bruises everywhere, his back was killing him.

Right, she dragged him quickly across the rocks, to an area with few trees, so the fires wouldn't burn to him. She attempted to fix him up, he remembered seeing her remove her hair ribbon.

Darkness.

He didn't move again for a long time, staring at the ground now. After his mind went over this, several times, his fingers automatically reached up and touched the red ribbon wrapped around his mouth. Left there by his dearest friend to keep him from asphyxiating, the hastily bandages, wrapped in a desperate attempt to keep him alive.

While she lead the pursuers off, away from him, sacrificing herself for his lowly sake.

His trauma switch should have engaged, he wanted to cry, sob, beat at the ground and scream. But she didn't save him for that, she wouldn't save him so he could wallow in despair and die here alone.

He took that moment to take in his hideous surroundings, a world like something from a nightmare. Ashen gray ground spanned out in all directions, blackened trees, some standing, some toppled over. All sharp stubs left over, stripped of their branches and bright green leaves. Some places, embers still burned, flickering in the smoke that continued to rise and contaminate the sky.

There hadn't been sun for days.

His eyes drifted to the river, other than a few burnt sticks and branches, it looked like it had had time to wash away most of the filth, it was the only clean thing around him, if you could call it that.

He stared at his reflection.

_His friends._

Where were they? Were they in danger too? But that didn't make sense, why would an invading race have any qualms about another race here? Weren't there treaties, pacts...

Unless...this was his platoon.

Perhaps, somehow, Keroro had finally grown tired of his games of laziness and done something, perhaps Giroro took over...or his brother had returned and taken over the task of conquering for them.

And, they hadn't even told him.

But- of course they hadn't, he would have protested! He didn't want Pekopon reduced to rubble and ruin, he would have gotten in the way, he would have-

No, that wasn't right at all. They hadn't told him because they never did, because they always forgot him, he was that third-_fifth-_-wheel of a platoon that didn't care.

He didn't exist.

The pain was overwhelming, traumatized, the tears blurred his reflection with a constant stream of ripples. Why? Keroro, it was just too much.

As usual, he cried.A heavy air of disappointment and let down surrounding him, it would have made anyone within a short distance of him depressed.

Why? Why was it always him? Wasn't he good enough? Wasn't he smart enough and strong enough? Wasn't he an important member of the platoon? A Lance-Corporal even? Wasn't he good enough to have studied under Jirara? Alongside his fellow assassins?

He was an assassin! He should have been good enough, cool enough to be around, important enough to remember! He could have taken on any one of them, killed them even, if he had felt like it. None of them really had skills to match his, well, maybe Kululu, he was the only one that you could never know what to expect. But he knew all of their weaknesses, he could have used that against them without breaking a sweat.

Still, time after time he was forgotten!

Something else boiled inside of him, an ugly, dark and consuming feeling he hadn't felt in some time. Or ever, not that he could recall.

Anger? Fury? Rage?

No, suddenly, he desired revenge.

They should be afraid of him, they should have been more wary of his abilities. He was an assassin, an _assassin_! A deadly killer meant to lurk in the shadows, striking his unknowing victims before they ever knew what hit them, nobody would. Silent, discrete, invisible.

He was a killing machine.

He had just pushed that all behind him, why had he been so feeble and meek, letting everyone walk over him like the floor that they were never grateful was there? Because I was meant to be unseen, however, that did not mean he was meant to be ignored. That would change now, it had to, what else did he have left to live for.

His friends weren't really friends, his one friend was gone, and the planet that he had so loved seemed to be failing all around him.

He stood up slowly, aching bones cracking into position, but he didn't care. He called upon the demonic ninja arts, encasing himself in the deep blue armor.

With no clue where he was headed, simply driven by the motivation and blind rage of his trauma, he crossed the river and walked, heading straight for the ruin of a world where he sensed there was still life desperately clinging to survival.

He'd show them, everyone, the entire planet-how much he _liked_ peace and tranquility. By stealing every last breath of this planet until it was encased in deafening silence.


	8. VIII: Need

A blast shook the ground, catapulting rubble in every direction, sure to pierce through skin no matter how thick. Keroro was forced to dive, ducking behind a concrete wall, barely even grimacing as several shards of gravel sliced across his skin. He hollered something into the opaque dust that clouded his vision and heard Fuyuki call back in return. He was alright, so Keroro ducked out from under his covering, picking the gun off of a mutilated Pekoponian corpse and scattering gunshots into the smoke.

As the bodies collapsed as he ran past, he finally saw the menacing shadow of the machine enveloped in the smog. Using the cover of the falling corpses, he managed to evade it's high tech tracking system, as the sudden movement of many forms made it difficult to discern his one much smaller one. So when it's pilot saw him, he was already leaping up beneath it and tearing out the guts of the engine.

Keroro barely escaped the blast as the mobile unit exploded, killing several invading aliens in it's wake. Another down, he felt accomplished, if only his father could see him now.

Except, he'd still be a disappointment. Here he was, having the planet he'd been sent to invade stolen right out from underneath him. He was trying to steal back a planet from an invading race which never should have made it onto the planet in the first place. If he had been doing what he was supposed to...if he had invaded the planet Pekopon by now, this never would have happened. He'd already have established a civilization for his kind here, the Pekoponians would be his slaves, and an army would be at his command. The pirating invaders would never have made it into the planets atmosphere, and even if they had-

His thoughts were interupted by Fuyuki's voice.

"They've backed down for now, I'm guessing they'll be regrouping and I'm sure there will be more of their units-"

"That's fine." Keroro interupted, "let them send as many as they want."

He brushed dust and debris from his arms and legs, "It just means we're getting closer to finding their base."

"I guess-but don't you think it's a bad idea at all? We're getting outnumbered more and more-if we don't find help we-"

"Help? Who would ever help us! Everyone is dead!" He snapped.

Regaining composure, taking a deep breath and sighing, he spoke more evenly, "Fuyuki...we are the help. We're what's left, and I'm the one who has to take back this planet. You understand, right?"

The boy could only nod sadly.

"Good, then let's keep moving." He trudged off into the ruined city.

Fuyuki followed, head hung a bit. Keroro was becoming less and less himself as the days passed on, his carefree though somewhat lazy attitude was being exchanged for a hate motivated killing machine. It was rare Fuyuki saw compassion in the Keronians expression, and if he did it was vague and directed at him.

Which was one good thing, the Sergeant still trusted him. They were still friends even if that emotional bond was buried deep underneath Keroro's need for revenge.

He still held hope fervently that the Keronian's platoon was still alive. That if they were reunited, Keroro's blind fury might cease. That he might see enough of a silver lining to save the planet, instead of just conquering it again.

Though, they'd be lucky if there was anything left to save. The city was billowing smoke almost constantly, there had not been sunlight in the sky since the invasion began, and it was taking it's toll on everyone there. Illness was beginning to spring up, and it would likely spread rapidly in the decaying and unhealthy landscape.

Fuyuki himself didn't know how long he could keep his health up, he'd developed a cough in the past couple of days from the smoke. He had used torn bits of his shirt undearneath his hoodie to tie a make-shift mask around his mouth and nose. It helped a little, but the horrible atmosphere was more than likely taking a toll on him.

His eyes burned constantly, and his voice had grown sore and raspy. The city occasionally had shelter from the thick air, and they'd stay as long as they could in buildings that filtered the oxygen. But even that wasn't fixing his problems.

Right now, he needed water. And it had to be bottled.

Most of the water in the city had become contaminated to the point that consumption was dangerous. He'd seen horrible things happen to people who tried to drink the water. Who knew what was in it at this point, but he didn't want to find out.

Relief flooded him when he spotted a drink vendor that had remained in tact on the side of a building. The power on it was off, and even if it was on he had no change. So, taking a chunk of concrete rubble, he smashed the glass in, piling several bottles of the untouched water into a backpack he'd acquired.

He handed one to Keroro who took it absentmindedly, drenching himself in the liquid to give himself some hydration.

Fuyuki wondered how badly Keroro was suffering. The Keronian never once complained, but the heat in battle that caused them to perspire could not bode well for the hydration relying amphibian.

He wanted to ask, but learned it useless. Keroro did what he did, and there was no arguing that. But it did make him feel a little better to see the short expression of relief on his old friends face as the water hydrated his skin once again.

...

Meanwhile, Corporal Giroro was attempting the S.O.S. that needed to happen. The Natsu-bot, as he had decided to call her, was helping him set up a transmission on the tumbled radio tower near what was once the Nishizawa residence.

"If we can just get-" He paused to grunt, lifting rubble away from the signal spires, "-a transmission out to Keron, we might be able to call in a rescue team."

He brushed off his hands, resting against the metal to catch his breath.

"Then we can regroup, and call in reinforcements to take back the planet." He straightened, pointing to the spires.

"Now, I need you to use whatever Kululu installed in you to send a transmission through those towers, we may be here awhile but if we send a constant stream for a few hours then we'll be more likely to get some of the message to them."

Natsumi nodded robotically.

"Yes Corporal." She replied, obediently setting up and relaying transmissions into space.

Sighing heavily, he slid down against a crumbling wall, giving himself the first "moment" to process everything that he'd had in days.

How long had it been now? A week?

After Kululu had been taken by the enemy race, Giroro found himself hunted for several days as the invaders searched the wooded area he had attempted to take refuge in. They'd been unsuccessful in locating him, so to his luck they had given up. At least it appeared that way, but there was no doubt they'd be back, it seemed their intent was to wipe out life on the planet.

So he had to get a signal out as soon as possible, before he was forced on the run again. He hoped that it wouldn't be too late by the time any rescue force got there, they had to survive until then.

In the mean time-he would search for Kululu. Maybe it was a lost hope, but they didn't kill him then and there. It was a long shot, but there was a chance he could still be alive. The Sergeant Major gave up his life so Giroro could accomplish something.

And until that something arrived to save them, he would be repaying the debt he now owed the yellow Keronian. He hated owing debts, he convinced himself that was the reason he even cared to save the bastard. Kululu had a reputation for being dis-likable.

That didn't explain why he saved him in the first place, but he tried not to think about that. They were at war, people always make strange decisions in the adrenaline of pandemonium.

Closing his eyes, he opted for getting some rest. It would be some time before the transmissions got out, Natsu-bot was completely focused on it. It would be okay for him to sleep awhile.


End file.
